


The Drowning of A Lion

by koenigs_bambina



Series: Cullen Is A Big Dork and So Is The Inquisitor [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6331024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koenigs_bambina/pseuds/koenigs_bambina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all knew that the hole in his roof would someday come back to bite Cullen in the ass. Unfortunately, he did not. Rain visits Skyhold and hijinks ensue.</p><p>"With a less than manly yelp- his legs disappeared out from underneath him, and the Lion of Ferelden tumbled to the ground, soaked to the bone- in his nightclothes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drowning of A Lion

It was a cold day in Skyhold. Well, a  _ colder _ day, considering that every day in Skyhold was enough to keep anyone from wandering around without a coat. However, the drop in temperature was not what was startling to the members of the Inquisition. No, it was the rain thundering down upon every last inch of the keep. 

Not once had the weather changed from its sunny state in the months since they had moved in. And now, the sky was dark despite the early hour, and wind whipped through the old stones with a howl. Everyone had been caught off-guard by the change, though none quite so much as Ser Cullen Rutherford, the strong-willed Commander of the Inquisition.

Cullen looked up from the defensive position at his desk, grimacing towards the impromptu covering of the hole in his roof; sheets that plugged holes the salvaged wood could not cover, straining as the wind attempted to push past them.

He sighed loudly, recalling the moment the storm had begun- rain and wind blowing almost purposefully towards his comfortable, sleeping body. He had awoken immediately, eyes snapping open darting back and forth as he quickly processed what was happening.

Leaping to his feet with shock and dismay, he paused only a moment before bolting towards his ladder to find someone,  _ anyone  _ who to stop nature’s direct assault on him. 

However, his assailant had had a different idea, and as he neared his escape, Cullen slipped in the puddle that had formed on his floor. 

With a less than manly yelp- his legs disappeared out from underneath him, and the Lion of Ferelden tumbled to the ground, soaked to the bone- in his nightclothes.

Cullen’s legs dangled over the edge, hanging into his office. He groaned quietly and thanked the Maker that he did not fall down to the first level, sure that he would not recover so easily after that. Although, even as he eased to his feet, the sting in his rear reminded him that he would not walk away unscathed.

It had made for a very rude awakening to to say the least. And now, instead of remaining in the warmth near his fire- close enough to monitor the rain’s attempts to intrude, yet far enough that he may remain in safe-keeping, Cullen had to tear himself away, out into the elements for a meeting that  _ he _ had called for.

With a loud huff and a groan, he stood, bottom still sore from his earlier defeat, and strode purposefully to the door. 

He wrenched it open, staring into the downpour and steeled himself for a second assault; but as his first step into the abyss began, the rain halted. 

Cullen blinked rapidly, mouth agape at the rash end to the storm that had been seemingly endless not a moment ago.

He took a few cautious steps out from the doorway, in utter disbelief, staring into the menacing sky. Perhaps Andraste had felt remorse for his previous misfortune, he thought, cracking a smile for the first time that day.

Feeling much more confident, Cullen decided to take the indirect route to the war room, through the battlements, so that he might check in on his soldiers. They were no doubt, huddled, in the Herald’s Rest, drinking to ward off the chill. 

As Cullen cleared the last of the steps, nearing the door to the pub, he spotted Scout Harding tentatively hovering by her usual post.

“Good morning, Commander,” she said skeptically, folding her arms across her chest and nodding at his still-dampened complexion, “did the rain get you this morning?”

“Unfortunately,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, “but at least it’s over.”

Just as the words left his mouth, a single, defiant drop flew down and landed smack on his nose.

His eyes widened, “Oh no-” the downpour began as quickly as it had disappeared. Harding brought her clipboard up as a shield and ran into the pub almost instantly- reason would expect Cullen to do the same, but he remained, frozen in forced resignation to his fate, too fuming with anger to do anything but stare at the empty space before him. 

When his legs finally found themselves, he began to trudge slowly through the field and towards the direction of war room, armed with the knowledge that though he had survived the Circle of Ferelden, Kirkwall and all of it’s dangers, the destruction of Haven- he had lost his dignity in a bout with water.

He passed through the great hall with as much authority as he could muster with his boots squelching and a dripping trail in his wake. He stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the hushed whispers at his appearance, although he did hear Varric bark out with a laugh “Oh, Curly- you look like a drowned cat.”

“Maker take you all,” he growled to himself, pushing into the last hallway to the war room. 

He stopped just outside the door, pressing his palms up against the wood and hanging his head.  _ This will be fine _ , he reminded himself. The Inquisitor was in that room, and she was always able to remove the thunder cloud from over his head.

He cringed at his wording, and shook his head. Right, it’s time. He pushed open the door and strode into the room with feigned confidence.

The collective look of shock from the three women waiting for him was astounding. 

Cullen stopped in his tracks and locked eyes with his love, hoping that she could muster some sympathy for his situation, but she just stared. Her mouth opened slightly as if she was about to speak- and she doubled over into a fit of laughter.

Cullen’s cheeks burned bright, eyes widening and a deep frown fixing to his face, any hope of a soothing sentiment, shattered.

“Oh no,” she gasped, attempting to catch her breath as he stomped over to his place next to her, “what happened to you?” 

“I was caught off-guard by the storm this morning,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and just as I dried myself off, and began to head here- it picked back up, and drenched me yet again.” 

Lorelei sniggered at Cullen’s attempt to smooth back his hair, and he immediately shot her the sharpest look he could manage, hoping that it would be enough to halt any further commentary on his current situation. 

Unfortunately, he seemed to be devoid of any luck that day, and as the meeting continued, the fun at his expense increased ten-fold.

There were snide remarks, hushed giggles, and when they thought his eyes were on something other than them, the women mimicked his stern expression whilst in an imaginary hurricane.

“At least you won’t have to bathe later.”

“I wonder if it’ll be possible to convince the nobles that this was some sort of statement. ‘The Commander has been washed in passion for our cause,’ No, no- that’s too silly.”

“I had no idea it was possible to  _ swim _ to the war room.”

Cullen was not a short-tempered man. Granted, he found himself irritated from time to time, depending particularly how stupid people were on a given day- and on occasion he would put Cassandra’s grumpy behavior to shame, but Cullen almost never found himself in a petulant and volatile mood- especially not while the Inquisitor was around. 

However, the rain  _ did _ something to him. He hated it- more than Orlesian nobles, and that was saying something. So, when this storm found him in the last place he would expect, and the woman he loved did nothing but exacerbate his already on-edge disposition- he became a short fuse just waiting for a spark to set him off.

That spark came halfway into a rather important speech that Cullen had been attempting to deliver on the usefulness of placing trebuchets at strategic points just outside of the hold.

“If we are able to cloak them in some manner, the enemy will be caught completely off-guard-”

“Oh? Sort of like you this morning?” Leliana smirked, earning a scalding glare from the Commander. And just as he prepared to tear into her for her inappropriate conduct, the Inquisitor pushed him over the edge.

“Look, you-”

“Cullen, darling,” Lorelei interrupted, “could you perhaps lean back a bit? You’re- well, it’s just that you’re  _ dripping  _ onto the map,” placing a hand on his shoulder and bringing him a couple steps away from the war table.

This prompted Leliana and Josephine to snort with laughter, poorly attempting to cover their amusement with faked coughing.

He gaped her for several moments, aghast that she could accuse  _ him  _ of being the one to disrupt their work. With narrowed eyes he growled at her, “I am simply trying to perform my duties as Commander. I did not ask to be covered in rain and mocked whilst doing so.”

“Serves you right for never getting that damned hole fixed,” she grinned.

“The weather has never changed since we have taken up residence here, how was I supposed to expect  _ this, _ ” he growled, gesturing to himself, the fur of his pauldrons sticking up in every direction, and his wet hair beginning to dry into untamed curls.

The women around him broke upon his direction of their attention to his wild appearance, and any hope of continuing their work was lost with their cackling and shed tears.

Cullen’s eyebrows knit together, face contorting into an impossibly increased indignance.

“Right, you three are no help. If you cannot take this meeting seriously, then I am going to go and make sure that Blackwall was able to permanently halt the flow of water into my place of residence.” He turned on his heel and stalked out the door.

Behind him, the Inquisitor rolled her eyes, signaling a farewell to Leliana and Josephine, who were no doubt going to spend the rest of the day figuring out how to make sure that Cullen would never be able to keep his natural hair hidden again.

“Cullen, please, wait,” Lorelei called, trotting to his side.

“Come to mock me some more, have you?” he responded curtly, marching pointedly through Solas’ office, scowling as the somber elf did a double-take at his now unruly mop of hair.

“No! Me? Mock you? Of course not!” She gasped with feigned offense, which only spurred him to quicken his pace. He loved the woman, but her tendency to turn nearly everything into a joke was the last thing he was equipped to find endearing at the moment.

“Wait, come on- Cullen, please stop-  _ Cullen _ \- CULLEN,” She shouted finally, exasperated by his severe behavior, turning in front of him and holding her palms up to halt his beeline for the door.

He obliged begrudgingly, glaring down his nose at her, jaw clenched.

“I am- sorry for laughing at you,  _ and _ for encouraging Leliana and Josephine’s part in the teasing.” He raised his eyebrows, doubtful of the sincerity.  “I can understand how upsetting it must be to wake up to a metaphoric bucket of water to the face,” the mental image drew a choked giggle from her throat before she could stop herself. If looks could kill, Thedas would be without an Inquisitor in that moment.

Lorelei sighed, shaking her head, and re-assessing her tactics to earn forgiveness. Cullen was determined to remain in his foul mood, and simple apologies were to no avail. She reached out slowly, lightly smoothing the, now, wild fur of his pauldrons. With a sly smile, an idea popped into her head.

Pouting and batting her lashes, she returned her attention to his face. His scowl held fast, though she could see that his eyes were calculating her intentions.

Lorelei slid her hands up further up his mantle, stepping onto her toes so that when she spoke, she was a mere breath from his lips.

“Commander, I have been unkind. You did not deserve the ridicule and rude behavior that I displayed today.”

Cullen’s anger immediately dissolved into shock at the sudden closeness. His body tensed further than before, though this time out of embarrassment rather than anger, eyes wide and hands balled into fists- his usual bashful demeanor snapping into place.

“Please, love, can you forgive me for poking fun at you in your time of misfortune?” 

“I- Well- you, uh…” Cullen choked on his words. Though they had been together for a good while now, he still found it surprising every time that she looked at him like  _ that. _ “Maker’s breath.”

“Yes?” she breathed, lips parted, her face angling towards his.

“You can’t just- do that with your face, and expect me to crumble!” he scolded, though the words came out a rough squeak.

She smiled slowly, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Brushing her nose alongside his, Lorelei buried her hands in his hair, twisting her fingers around his locks and sighing. 

Just as he began to lean into her touch, a groan rising in his throat, she leaned back to stare with honeyed eyes into his.

Cullen’s cheeks burned, his eyes now heavy-lidded and his heart thudding in his chest. At the back of his mind he vaguely recalled that Solas was just down the short hallway, most likely retching at this display, yet he could not bring himself to pull away from her grasp.

Lorelei's face shifted into a challenge as the silence increased between them,  _ Well? _ Her eyes seemed to say,  _ what are you waiting for? _

With a defeated sigh and a low chuckle, Cullen finally composed himself, “Very well- I suppose I overreacted in the first place, I know that you meant no harm.”

“Good!” she beamed, finally closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his in a passionate and apologetic kiss, before releasing his cloak and bouncing back, “and just for good measure, I am going to make us even.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Just as he recognized the devilish gleam in her eyes that signified mischief, Lorelei pressed back against the door, and spun into the downpour. She laughed wildly, turning around and raising her arms to greet the caress of the water.

Cullen watched her incredulously, jaw dropped at how easily she embraced something he had seen only as an inconvenience. But, as she brought her tossed-back head upright and turned her gaze to him, he could not help but smile, and walk straight outside to join her, rain be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea a long time ago, and I thought it would be fun to see how Cullen would react to rain.
> 
> Thank you to Kat for being my editor
> 
> My tumblr is koenigs-bambina 
> 
> Send me any comments or suggestions you have!
> 
> I hope you like it!


End file.
